


Don't regret. Remember.

by brickmaster



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Mutual Pining, Post-Re:Mind, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brickmaster/pseuds/brickmaster
Summary: Sora wanders the Final World, lonely and alone, waiting for the one thing that breaks up these endless days. That is, until his pocket starts buzzing.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 151
Collections: Re⊕Collect: A Soriku Fic Collection





	Don't regret. Remember.

**Author's Note:**

> A few things: thank you so much to Claudia for the idea behind this entire fic, immense gratitude to [greeneggs101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneggs101/pseuds/greeneggs101) and [pineovercoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineovercoat/pseuds/pineovercoat) for being such wonderful betas, an enormous amount of praise and thanks to [@steamwhistler2](https://twitter.com/steamwhistler2) for the stunning cover art, and a huge wave of appreciation for the soriku community as a whole.

art by [@steamwhistler2](https://twitter.com/steamwhistler2)

“Nevermind,” Yozora says wryly with a small smile and disappears in a flash of light along with the sprawling cityscape.

Sora blinks his eyes to a place of sky and sea, endless and pristine. He waves away his keyblade and cups the crown pendant in its place. 

“Riku... where am I?”

~+~

He pants, hands clutching his knees as he desperately tries to catch his breath. His arms are littered in welts and the length of his back is bruised from a reckless fall.

Yozora is gone and Sora is here. Battered and beaten, but still here. 

He closes his eyes, narrows his focus on the contraction of his chest as he breathes. The push and pull of air is calming and on the edge of his hearing he can almost hear the crashing of waves...

Sora’s eyes snap open.

There are no waves here, just placid water as far as the eye can see. The only waves he’s ever seen are in the jumbo screen advertisements in the city Yozora transports them to. And _yet…_

His eyes carefully slip closed, rests his forehead against his crossed arms, and tries to sleep.

~+~

He has a strange key shaped blade, a phone in his pocket, and the clothes on his back.

There’s a chain around his neck, silver and gleaming, with a crown that nestles at the base of his throat. He can’t fathom why but he finds comfort holding it in the palm of his hand.

~+~

The water ripples beneath his feet, little currents interrupted by the next step and the next and the ne—

There’s a buzzing in his pocket. 

Sora stills, waits. 

His pocket vibrates again and he fumbles the flap to wrangle the phone out. The phone was one of the few items he’d found on his person upon waking but as it had been unresponsive the whole time—devoid of any contents or activity—he had quickly forgotten it. 

The phone vibrates once more in his palm and the screen flashes. 

_(1) New message!_

He thumbs through and taps the only file available.

“Hi, Sora. Today is—hm… the ninth day since you brought Kairi back,” a voice, smooth and deep settles into Sora’s ear and he comes to a halt. His heart is racing, hands twitching restlessly around the metal phone case and he has no idea _why_. 

Sora exhales slowly, tries to calm his thundering pulse so he can hear. The person hasn’t said their name, and Sora feels slightly guilty not calling them _something_ , so he settles on the Voice. 

The Voice tells him about people, places, _things_ , he’s never heard of: Donald and Goofy are searching different worlds; Terra, Aqua, and Ventus are in the Realm of Darkness; Naminé is conducting experiments on Xion’s and Roxas’s memories; and Kairi— the person he brought back? Back from _what?_ — who’s heart is being searched. 

The Voice’s tone grows heavy for a moment, quiet, and Sora futilely leans forward to better hear. 

“We’re all looking for you, Sora. We’re not going to give up looking—never going to give up on _you_. Listen, I... I need to help Leon with some Committee work. You know how it is. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The message ends and Sora stares slack-jawed at the darkened screen. 

He’s not alone. 

There are people— _lots_ of people—who _care_ about him, who are _looking_ for him. He doesn’t hesitate to tap the play button again, sinking to sit cross-legged with the crown pendant in his grip.

~+~

The Voice tells him about a place called Radiant Garden and its inhabitants. Leon, Yuffie, Tifa, Aerith, Cloud, Cid—they care about Sora, too. The Voice tells Sora about lush gardens and the scent of flowers permeating the air when dawn breaks.

Sora closes his eyes tightly, breathes in, and catches a trace of lilac and honeysuckle.

~+~

The messages continue—anecdotes about the restoration committee, updates on the search efforts, the minutiae of late nights pouring over tomes.

Sora soaks up every word. The Voice has become a balm for the loneliness and fear and exhaustion of this place.

The messages continue for some time before they stop altogether.

~+~

It’s difficult to see. Whether it's due to the blanket of night sky overhead or the blood running down into his eyes, he’s not sure.

Yozora is gone once more and Sora’s left exhausted and pained amidst so much starlight. 

His steps are heavy, his right ankle protests the movement and swells by the second. His pocket buzzes. 

Sora freezes, holding his breath. 

It’s been so long since the last message and his imagination, his hope, has played more tricks on him in that time than he would care to admit. 

The world stills with him and he risks a slow, hitching breath out and nearly chokes when another buzz comes. 

He frantically shoves his pocket open and rips the phone out, hand swiping across his brow at the fresh trickle of blood. Tapping the phone icon, he’s greeted with not one, but several short messages. Sora’s heart leaps to his throat and he swallows thickly as the first one begins to play.

“Sora, I—” the Voice cracks, thick and wet. He’s met with silence and he pulls the phone away to glance at the screen. 

_Message duration: 3 seconds_

The others are just as short. Trembling slightly, Sora selects the next one.

“I’m meeting with Ienzo and Even today but I don’t think I’m strong enough—” 

Sora selects the next message.

The Voice is shaky, thick with tears. “I’m on the islands. I’m here but you’re _not_. I can’t stand this place without you in it. Sora, _please—_ ”

They’ve never sounded like this and Sora’s cheek begins to numb from how hard he’s pressed the phone there. His face is hot, eyes stinging, but he steps a little more firmly on his hurt ankle to detract from the ache in his chest. 

Sora selects the last message.

“It’s been _months_ and we’ve found nothing,” the Voice says, hollow and laced with exhaustion. Sora’s legs weaken at the sound. He collapses to the ground, shoulders shaking with the onset of tears. 

“I know you’re out there, Sora. I believe that more than anything but... I don’t know how to do this without you...”

The message continues for a few seconds, nothing but heavy breaths until it cuts off on a barely muffled sob. 

Sora cradles his phone closely, head buried against his knees as he cries himself into unconsciousness.

~+~

“Hi, Sora. I’m sorry for how I left things last time. For not calling sooner. I- I’m in a better place now but I didn’t want to call you until I was. It’s been 110 days without you and it hasn’t gotten any easier.”

Sora’s fingers are tight around the gummiphone and his other arm is curled around his belly in a half hug. There’s still an undercurrent of sadness to the Voice’s words but Sora detects a strange energy as well. 

The Voice clears their throat and says, “But, I thought that a good way to spend these calls would be to talk about things. After the islands fell, even before that if I’m being truly honest, we never got the chance to talk. I’d like to, now.”

Sora’s clutches his arm around himself tighter. _“After the islands fell”? What do they mean by_ that _?_

“Not to sound overly dramatic but, I’d like to start at the beginning,” the Voice says. There’s a hint of levity, mirth in their tone, and Sora’s grip softens in response. “We didn’t meet until I was five but I think a part of me remembers being without you, even when I didn’t know you existed.”

The words pluck at his heart, hard enough that he gasps loudly into the eternal silence of this world. He clutches at the crown resting at the base of his throat, settling when it warms easily in his palm.

“One of my very first memories is of you. Not that surprising because _of course_ it would be you. My family wasn’t around much so I was allowed a certain amount of freedom to roam the islands when I felt like it. I hated being on my own in that house and so the footpaths and overgrowth of the islands were an escape.”

Sora eases himself down to the watery ground to settle into the ebb and flow of the Voice’s story. His back meets the ground but, like always, there’s the sensation of water lapping at him only without the chill or damp. Sora closes his eyes and listens. 

He can almost imagine it. 

A little one running through brush away from the house jutting from the cliffside, imposing and hollow—

“It was on one of those days when I ran off towards the eastern end of the mainland. The houses were much smaller, rows of them stretching in front of me towards the far shore. I was almost to the beach—the sand blowing against my ankles—when I saw you.”

The Voice goes quiet for a moment but there’s a pocket of warmth left in its absence and Sora feels it swell in his chest. 

“You were small, hair just as wild, and you were covered head to toe in band-aids.” The Voice chuckles softly and Sora turns on his side and curls his legs to his chest, curls closer to the sound. “It had rained all week and the ground was dark, still moist, and you were picking up snails from the road and carrying them to the safety of your garden.”

The memory flares brightly on the back of Sora’s eyelids. 

The early morning sun was almost painfully bright after days of overcast skies and he’d kept his chin tucked to his chest to avoid it, spotting a small group of snails trekking across the dark red dirt of the road beyond the garden fence. He remembers pinching the shells between his fingers and cradling them close—one after another after another. He’d placed one beneath a hosta, much to his mom’s displeasure, when a small voice called to him.

“I asked what you were doing and you said—”

“‘Friends don't let friends get squished!’”

They say it at the same time and Sora bites his lip and rubs his cheek against the gummiphone screen, intent on listening instead. 

“I crouched down next to you, picked one up between my fingers, and carried it over to the hibiscus under your bedroom window. They seemed to like it just fine and I turned back around and you were there—” the Voice cuts off, a heavy swallow audible over the fuzzy recording, “You were there, smiling at me, and it was the brightest thing I’d ever seen. Still is.” 

Sora’s cheek is damp and warm against the screen. 

“You said your name was Sora and I said mine was Riku, and we shook hands.” The Voice— _Riku_ —laughs slightly and Sora’s belly flips at the sound. _Riku…_

“You held onto my hand and tugged me past the fence towards the shore. We almost got away but your mom caught us by the back of our shirts. We spent the rest of the day playing in the garden, drinking iced tea, and eating sliced mangoes. I came back the next day and every day after that.”

Sora can almost taste it, sticky-sweet fruit and sea spray. 

“I... need to head out, but this felt good. Really good,” Riku’s voice is low but lighter than it’s sounded in a very long time and Sora sighs contentedly. “I’ll talk to you soon. Goodnight, Sora.”

Riku’s voice shaping _his_ name warms him down to his toes and he curls himself around the phone tighter, exhaustion flirting around the edges of his vision. He knows there’s no one around to hear it, that _Riku_ won’t be able to, but nevertheless he whispers out a soft, “Goodnight, Riku.”

~+~

The calls come more frequently after that. Time is still elusive in this world but Sora doesn’t feel the creeping isolation, the bone-deep loneliness as much anymore.

Each message brings a new yet strangely familiar story. 

Riku tells him about growing up together. 

He tells him about the wooden swords Sora’s mother—Kumo, her name is _Kumo_ —made for them after spinning epic tales of pirates and sea dragons all of which had fueled their adventures for years. How Sora has a scar on his elbow from falling during a spar, a jagged rock splitting the skin. Sora contorts himself to peer down at one elbow to no avail, checks the other, and runs his fingers over the faint, raised scar tissue there.

Riku tells him how he spent most of his time at their house, how his family didn’t seem to notice his absence but that he didn’t miss them all that much. Sora and Kumo’s company didn’t leave any room for it. 

He talks about a night, when they were nine and ten, when the sky erupted into streaks of light. They snuck out of Sora’s room, swords in hand, and ran to the shore. It was a meteor shower; something unheard of in their short lives and all but forgotten in the memories of the other islanders. Riku says that Sora was scared, had started crying thinking the islands would be destroyed only for Riku to take his hand and point his sword up at the sky— 

The message bursts into static.

Sora fiddles with the sound levels, pressing his ear as close as he can to try to discern what Riku’s saying. His heart is thumping almost painfully in his chest and his free hand is clenched tightly around the crown pendant, points digging sharply into his skin. 

The rest of the message is incomprehensible. 

Sora replays it, again and again, and finds that the message deteriorates further with each listen. 

Tears slide down his cheeks as his thumb jabs the play button roughly but Riku’s standard greeting of _Hi, Sora_ is completely washed away in white noise. He collapses to the ground, heart a leaden weight as he gasps brokenly up at the clear, cloudy sky. 

The threads of an unfinished story, a memory, is clutched in his hands.

He doesn’t know what it is—he can’t _remember_ —but he knows it means everything.

~+~

The next call comes quickly and leaves Sora just as devastated.

Riku talks about the arrival of their friend, Kairi, and how they spent their days out on the play island.

His voice is level, almost forcefully so, and he ends the call with a hastily finished anecdote about a raft before the call disconnects midway through Sora’s name.

Sora stares at the phone and waits.

~+~

“Hi, Sora. I’m sorry for ending our last talk so abruptly. I- I thought that what I was doing was for the best but the truth of our story is…” Riku’s voice trails off and Sora scuffs his foot against the watery ground while he waits. He can always wait for Riku.

There’s a long, quaking inhale over the line and Sora starts chewing on his lip. 

“The truth is that we were friends. We went on a new adventure every day together, just the three of us. One of my fondest memories is laying on the shore of the play islands, holding hands as the sun set… But the full truth is that we _were_ friends.”

Sora stops in his tracks, his toe catching and sending a giant ripple on all sides. 

“That night when the islands fell is one of the worst nights of my life. I know why it happened now and I’ve accepted my darkness, worked to make it _right_. I was jealous, felt pushed out for a long time, and that _night_ —” Riku’s voice breaks. “That night I overheard you on the dock and it was like all of my worst fears come true.”

Sora’s heart lurches in his chest and there's an acrid taste on the back of his tongue. He swallows harshly, crouches down and puts his head between his knees to diffuse the wave of nausea. 

_Let’s take the raft and go! Just the two of us!_

He can hear her voice, smell the sunscreen, and the thready thrumming of his pulse reverberates from his memory into the here and now. 

“I would _never_ leave you behind. Riku—” Sora’s gasps, out of breath as his chest tightens. All that answers him is silence, the message complete.

~+~

The next few messages are halting and painful. With each piece Riku provides, Sora’s heart moves in counterpoint to fill in the rest.

Riku talks about his feelings of isolation, Maleficent’s manipulation, and losing to Ansem. Sora remembers losing his friends and his home, chasing Riku across the galaxy and urging him to come with Sora, and a giant white door with stained glass along its peak slowly closing and separating them for good. 

Riku talks about a strange castle and watching over him as he slept—going to the terrible lengths of hurting people if it meant Sora waking. Sora’s unable to remember any of this and, with a twist of guilt in his belly, he’s relieved at it’s absence.

Riku talks about leaving clues, leading Sora through worlds while ensuring he was never found. Sora remembers searching endlessly for Riku, latching onto any scrap or whisper or glimpse he could find. 

Riku talks about an exam they took together to prove their worth as keyblade wielders. Sora remembers the overwhelming pride bursting in his chest when Riku was named Master. 

So many stories. So many memories and moments that make up the whole of their hearts and who they are to each other. 

It feels like dawn is breaking in his chest.

~+~

The sky of the Final World is set alight as the sun begins to set. The journey is slow and Sora’s shoulders wind tighter as it descends. Nightfall brings Yozora; another grueling fight with no answers and no purpose.

Sora’s washed in twilight, stars piercing through the fading reds and purples of the sky as he counts his breaths. 

Riku’s last message marked his absence as 365 days long. He’s no closer to understanding the mechanics of this world but he would hazard a guess that the number of _fights_ he’s barely walked away from nears that amount too.

He keeps his eyes peeled for the first glimpse of Yozora as the moon appears in full. One hand is curled tightly around the keyblade and the other is clasped around the pendant. He can feel his heartbeat against the back of his fingers.

These fights are terrifying, adrenaline flooding his body until every piece of him shakes with energy. In the beginning, he would throw everything he had into the fights—even at the cost of his own wellbeing. Broken fingers, bruises, and cuts across his forearms became commonplace.

Since the messages started, he’s become cautious, carefully measuring the cost of fighting Yozora offensively versus defensively. The more he learned about Riku, the less he was willing to risk. 

The pocket along his thigh vibrates and he waves away the keyblade to dig the gummiphone out. On its screen are six new notifications. Hand trembling, he swipes his thumb across the screen and clicks on the oldest one.

“Hi, Sora. It's day 158. It’s beautiful in Radiant Garden tonight; clear skies and stars practically everywhere. Hey... do you remember the meteor shower?”

Sora’s breath stutters to a halt, heart lurching. This is _the call_. The first of many messages that reduced to static. He clicks frantically at the volume button.

“It was in the middle of the summer and the sky erupted into streaks of light. We snuck out of your room with our wooden swords and ran all the way to the shore. We’d never seen anything like it and you were terrified. I gripped the sword so hard I could feel splinters digging into my hand because you were crying, smaller than I’d ever seen you as you asked what would happen if they hit the islands. I’d been carrying the necklace around for a while because I wanted it to be yours and I wanted it to be special. While you were wiping your face, I looped the chain around your neck. The crown shone almost as brightly as the sky falling around us and when you held it I knew I’d made the right choice. I clasped your free hand tightly and pointed my sword up at the burning sky. I vowed to protect you Sora, no matter what. It’s an oath I’m going to spend the rest of my life keeping.”

~+~

“—Kairi stopped me from leaving, called you over, and reconnected us in that awful place. You touched my hand and it’s like nothing had changed. Like I was still Riku and not this _thing_ wearing our enemy’s face. I hated to see you cry but you were there, so close and _happy_ to see me. I never let myself imagine—”

~+~

“—but you carried me. You’ve always carried me, Sora. We sat down on that dark beach and with you by my side, it was the greatest peace I’ve ever known.”

~+~

“Mickey said that we’re holding on to little pieces of each other, that our hearts are in tune. When you’re _here_ I can hear it if I close my eyes and focus on the beat of my heart.”

~+~

“I was back on that dark beach, that place where I would have happily spent the rest of my days so long as you were with me. But now I was alone and I _missed you_ so much. Your name slipped out and you appeared like an answer in a burst of light. Our heart song swelled in my chest, so much so that I couldn’t catch my breath because you were _there_ —strong and _beautiful_ —and you smiled at me. I felt like I could take on anything-”

~+~

“Everyone was gone and you were on hands and knees, crying like I hadn’t seen since the meteor shower. You could barely catch your breath and the grief in your voice brought me to my knees. There wasn’t an ounce of belief in yourself and it _hurt_. I remember the beat of my heart, the push and pull of air in my chest. My hand didn’t shake as I lifted Braveheart and my mind was clear except for you. I thought about the oath I made to protect you. With you in mind, there was no room for any doubt.

“You were at your lowest and I told you that you didn’t believe you were worthless. I’m so sorry. It’s not what you needed, _deserved,_ to hear. 

“Sora, I am in _awe_ of you. Every single thing you’ve done and continue to do has made me love you more than I ever thought possible. You’re the brightest light I’ve ever known and guided my way back time and again. I’d like to be that for you if you’d let me. I want to light your way back but I can’t do it without you. I believe in you, Sora. Come home.”

~+~

The stars are shining in full above and below, and they ripple as Yozora makes his way towards him.

_I believe in you, Sora._

The water ebbs in small waves across the short distance between them and breaks across the front of Sora’s sneakers. His hand is warm, the gummiphone a blazing charcoal in his palm but he tucks it away and replaces it with his keyblade.

With a flick of his wrists, Yozora’s sword and crossbow appear and are trained intently on Sora. 

“Let’s get this over with.”

He sounds tired. They’ve shared this dance countless times now but the bruises and cuts littering Sora’s body never seem to make their way onto Yozora. He looks the same as ever, right down to the determined look in his eyes. 

Sora curls his fingers more tightly around the grip and rolls forward onto the balls of his feet. He’s determined too, now more than ever. 

_I believe in you, Sora. I believe in you, Sora. I believe in y—_

“Yeah, let’s.”

Yozora’s blade ignites, setting the still night ablaze.

~+~

The beat of his heart is loud in his ears but there’s a surety to it that belies the fight he’s dipping and dodging through. He will win this fight. There’s no other option and he knows that winning—not retreating or barely scraping by—is the only way to get out of this place and back home. His spells erupt in violent bursts of blues and yellows in the darkness, every swing of the keyblade getting stronger and stronger.

His spins and swings, blades clashing, their faces illuminated by sparks. 

Sora digs his heels in with gritted teeth and pushes the keyblade away from himself. Yozora’s arms tremble slightly, the most minute sign of exhaustion Sora’s seen in all this time and his breath picks up in excitement. There’s a buzz of energy circling his legs and inching up his spine. His mana is almost replenished. 

Yozora twists his hand tighter around the grip, his other palm flat against the searing red light of his blade. “All this time, all these _losses_ , and still you think you can escape.”

The words prick, little slivers embedding into his resolve but his hands remain steady—an ever-constant pressure against Yozora. 

_I believe in you, Sora. I believe in you, Sora._

“I believe in you, Sora.” His voice is strained through his teeth but it’s loud enough to wrap itself around his heart, to suffuse his body with renewed energy and resolve. 

His opponent is stronger than him, faster, but Sora’s got everything to lose and when faced with such immeasurable loss you get creative. Drawing his right leg back, Sora summons his mana and tightens his grip on the keyblade. 

“I don’t think I can. I _know_ it,” Sora hisses through his clenched teeth and kicks out at Yozora, catching him harshly in the gut. 

His opponent is caught off guard and Sora uses the opportunity to fling himself backward. There are several yards between them now and Yozora’s coughing for breath when Sora lets his mana loose with a roar. 

_“Thunder!”_

The grand magic cuts through the dark and engulfs Yozora completely.

~+~

Tendrils of smoke curl up and off of Yozora’s body where he rests on violently trembling hands and knees in front of Sora.

Their eyes meet in the water’s reflection and Sora almost believes there’s a hint of a smile on his mouth.

There’s a flicker of light and Sora’s attention drifts from Yozora to the source. The pendant against his chest, the crown he’s worn for almost his whole life, pulses in waves of warm golden light. Sora cups the pendant carefully in his hands, shivers at the comforting heat that seeps into his skin.

“You did it,” Yozora’s voice is hoarse and almost too rough to understand. At Sora’s dumbfounded face he huffs slightly. He shifts back onto his heels and meets Sora’s eyes head-on. “You’re getting out. How?”

There’s a numbness to Sora’s body in that instant, save for the pulsing of the pendant that seems to be getting faster and faster.

“I... believed in myself. I believed that I could.”

The light radiates from his chest and illuminates Yozora more fully. He’s singed and covered in cuts and welts from their battle but his face is placid as he begins to fade past the influx of the brilliant glow.

“I’ll have to try that some time...”

Everything fades to white, and for the first time in forever, the world of sea and sky disappears completely.

~+~

Riku scrolls through the call history on his phone, bare feet warm against the sand. He’d crossed the line he’d been toeing for years out of fear and self-doubt, given voice to the feelings caught in his throat. He contemplated doing another, to truly lay out his feelings in full but... Sora’s more insightful than anyone gives him credit for and Riku hopes it holds true. Hopes, wishes, so _much—_

There’s a tug in his chest, powerful enough that he stumbles and falls to his knees, his phone bouncing across the ground. His hand is tangled roughly in his shirt, clenched over the desperate plucking of his heartstrings. Over the roar of blood in his ears, he can hear a loud splash and whips his head over to the horizon to catch the remnants of airborne water refract into a shimmer of color.

Riku waits a moment, two, and jolts as a head breaks the surface several yards offshore.

His face falls slack as Sora’s drooping spikes quickly bounce back into place, his face splitting into an eclipsing smile at the sight of Riku. He starts swimming towards the shore, towards Riku.

Riku’s limbs are leaden, unresponsive to the howl caught in his chest. He crawls through the weakness, pushes himself to his knees with a singing heart, and stumbles carelessly through the tide sprinting as far as he can until they collide in a spray of sea. 

They clutch each other breathlessly, caught between laughter and hitching sobs, twisting their hands desperately into each other’s clothing until the waves sway them as one. 

Riku cups the back of Sora’s head, cradling him into the crook of his neck. He blinks tear-filled eyes up at the bright sky, pulling Sora closer until his knuckles turn white from how tightly he’s holding him. Sora doesn't seem to mind. 

They stay there for a long while, the cycle of breath caught between them and echoed in the close beat of their hearts. The sun reaches its apex and Sora finally breaks the hold, pulling back until they’re eye to eye. He looks no different than when he left and Riku’s grateful for it. 

“Hey, you…”

His voice cinches Riku’s chest tightly. A whole _year_ without hearing that voice.

Sora’s hands are warm against his cheeks, eyes skimming across Riku’s face and brighter than he can ever remember. He leans in, eyelids falling and Riku follows helplessly. Their mouths meet, soft and tentative and Riku’s awareness narrows to this alone. He’s not sure how long they stay like that but he can’t help but peek his eyes open, just slightly. Sora’s face is loose, all tension in his body gone as he presses closer, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of Riku’s neck as he hums contentedly against his lips. 

Riku cradles Sora’s cheek, thumb brushing across freckled skin before reluctantly pulling away.

“Sora…”

An immense light swells between them, flaring from Sora’s chest, and they blink until it fades and the other appears before them once more. Sora’s smiling so widely his eyelashes reduce to streaks against his dark skin.

“I made it!”

Riku stifles the tears that threaten to spill past his smile and cups the back of Sora’s neck instead. He has to stoop slightly but their foreheads manage to touch all the same. 

“I always knew you would,” he says, foreheads sliding, bodies melting against each other.

“Thank you for lighting my way home.” Sora’s fingers skim Riku’s chin gently and his eyes are as honey-sweet as his voice.

“Thank you for believing.”

Sora ducks his head against Riku’s chest with his lip caught between his teeth, and Riku curls himself more tightly around him, the crown pressed between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my first ever zine contribution! My little baby is free at last! One last, final thank you to everyone who worked on this zine. This is such an incredible collection of stories and art and I'm still blown away to have had the opportunity to be a part of it. Thank you!!!!!!
> 
> My twitter: [@brickmaster_p](https://twitter.com/brickmaster_p)


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